A Murderer in the Shadows
by sparkles04
Summary: Lexa may or may not be a serial killer.
1. Chapter 1- Killer Sex

"It's the very same dream?"

"Yes, she had a different face though."

"Tell me about it."

"It's the same damn dream. Why do you need to hear about it?"

"You may remember something, anything. The smallest details could help you."

"Help me how? They won't stop. We've done this before."

"Lie back, relax, close your eyes, and walk me through it."

"You find some odd sense of comfort in torturing me?"

"No, not at all. I'm just trying to understand this, just like you are."

"Talking about this with you, writing about it in my journal, neither of those help."

"It might seem that way now. But I'm willing to bet that someday it will. Maybe that day

will be today."

"I hope you're right, Doc."

I repositioned myself on the long navy blue couch, resting my head on the decorative

pillow that had most likely held many confused, lost, crazy heads.

"Promise me something," I said to her as I stared at the ceiling.

"What do you need?"

"Don't come any closer, no matter what, okay?"

"Okay."

I knew she meant it. But I also knew she wouldn't be able to sit there in her chair. I

closed my eyes while her soft voice echoed in my head. "Relax. Breathe in and out. Breathe in and out. Breathe..."

I opened my eyes, the dream coming back to me so vividly.

"I open the door to my apartment. It's dark except for a table lamp illuminating the hallway. She asks if she should take off her shoes and I laugh and tell her they would come off eventually. She, a blonde with sparkling blue eyes, a short black dress and red lipstick. We make our way into my bedroom, we're laughing again, this time about the guy at the bar who tried to pick her up. Time moves forward and we're on my bed kissing. I only have my jeans on, she's not wearing anything. Her lips taste like... peach. She tells me she likes to be tied up and holds up two sheer red scarves. I use them to tie her wrists to the bedpost, tight enough she can't wiggle out of them, but trying to be gentle to not hurt her at the same time. When I'm finished she gives me this smirk and then bites her lip. It turns me on. My lips find hers, kissing her with an insatiable hunger, her knees moves between thighs, touching my center and I whimper into her mouth. She giggles. I feel this deep need to take her hard and fast and it's surging through my veins. This energy. My teeth latch on to her collarbone, biting and then soothing with soft kisses, I make my way down to her breast, taking my time with both even though the need to fuck her lingers. I ignore it. I wrap my lips around each nipple, sucking them, engulfing them into my mouth while my hand trails down her torso, over her abdomen, my fingers finding her wetness. And once that happens I can't hold back any longer. My mouth is around her clit, my fingers moving fast in and out of her. She's moaning loudly, egging me on, begging me to go faster, harder. Her body starts convulsing, she calls out that she's cumming, I continue fucking her with my fingers and my mouth until she tells me to stop. And then I'm face to face with her. She's smiling like she's in love. "Green-eyed girl, you're such a mystery," she says. My fingertips caress her cheek and I tell her she's beautiful. The room goes dark. I can only see her face. I can see her face and I can see my hands. They're around her throat. Squeezing. I can feel her pulse beating all the way up through my arms. Her legs are kicking, bumping hard into my thighs. Her eyes wide open and filled with fear. I just keep squeezing. The anger builds up in me and I just keep squeezing. The room is bright again. I'm lying in my bed staring out the window. A breeze blows through it, making the curtains sway. I lie there for a few more seconds before I turn to see someone lying next to me. It's her. Her face is pale. Her eyes open and bloodshot. Her mouth open. And her hands resting on her stomach. Tied together with a red scarf."

"It's okay, it's okay. It was just a dream," she said to me as I rocked back and forth in her arms, sobbing uncontrollably. "It's just a dream, Lexa."

She held me in her arms for a while. I couldn't say how long. At least until I stopped rocking. The tears remained even days later. They always did after I had these dreams. I am not a killer. I've not so much as killed an ant. But my hands around that girls throat felt so real.

The city is so quiet when you're stuck in your mind. It's so quiet when you need it to be loud. When you need it to block out the sounds inside your head. And the voices that repeat like a broken record, over and over and over again.

"Green-eyed girl, you're such a mystery."


	2. Chapter 2- Normal Girl

"How was your session with the sexy doctor?"

"Hello to you to, Echo." I dropped my bag on the floor of the hallway and headed straight to my room. I wasn't really in the mood to be harrassed by my roommate like I had a silly high school crush.

"What, you're just gonna ignore me? It was that bad?" She yelled from the couch.

I sighed and poked my head around the wall that separted the hallway from the very small living room. "It went okay. We talked. I lost it. She consoled me. I freaked out. I left without saying good bye."

"Wow, you're even worse with the ladies than I thought," she joked, her eyes wide as she tossed a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

"Funny," is all I said, then I rolled my eyes and walked back towards my door.

"I wish you could just talk to me about it, Lexa."

I wished I could too. But I couldn't bring her into this. I needed my friends. I needed her to see me as a normal girl. Someone she could joke with and talk about crushes with. I didn't need her wondering if she was friends with a murderer.

I shut my bedroom door, completely ignoring her. Echo, whose real name is Dolly, has been one of my best friends since college. Ever since the incident where I had too much to drink and fell off of a two-story balcony at a frat party. She found me and never left my side since. Over the years I've come to believe she has a thing for me. And although I am gay, I've never seen her that way. She'd jump at the chance to be with me, but she knows it's not in the cards for us. She could have went home after graduation and lived a very comfortable life with her fiance Paul, who owned a bunch of businesses and lived in a mansion in Miami. Instead she followed me to New York and announced she was gay too. Okay, well she never announced it, but I live with the girl, and the only people she invites overnight leave in the morning, carrying high heels and blushing when they see me on the couch sipping my cheap coffee. She never had to confess to me, one day we just started talking about it like I had always known.

After a hot shower, in which I cried the entire time, I lied down in my bed and stared at the ceiling. The rain was falling hard outside my window, but it did nothing to distract me from my thoughts. Even if I was into Echo, I had built walls around my heart that were strong enough to keep anyone out that dared tried to enter. And I didn't do it to protect myself, I did it to protect them. And they would be up until I could figure out what these dreams meant. I knew I could never hurt someone like that. But everything felt so real. Every time I woke from one of these dreams, it felt as if my hands were still around their throats. I could feel the anger and the sadness and a dark energy all at once. I didn't understand it. I might not be a killer, but maybe I was crazy. Maybe I left my apartment every night, found a beautiful woman, brought her back to my place, fucked her and then strangled her to death. Then I blocked it all out. Geez, how crazy did I sound? I've imagined every way imaginable that this scenario could play out, every way imaginable that I could have phsically taken another life. It's like being in an episode of the Twilight Zone and I'm standing in a dark alley, eyes squinted, trying to make out the figure in the distance. The black silhouette. The murderer in the shadows. And I'm trying to see if it's me. If it's my face staring back at me with cold eyes and a mischievous smile. And then I see her, the girl in the dream, so beautiful and innocent and full of life... until I've squeezed it all out of her. My hands around her throat as she gasps for air.

I looked down at my hands and they were shaking. I was sobbing again. And I knew it would be another sleepless night. But maybe that's a good thing.

"I, I know it's late. But I need to see you. I can't do this anymore, I don't know how."

"Where are you, Lexa? Are you home?"

"Yeah. I'm here. It's just me."

"Do you want to meet at the diner on Jefferson again? I can meet you there in a half hour."

"I'll be there."

I set my phone down and walked into the bathroom to wash my tear-stained face. I couldn't let her see me like this even though I always end up in tears during our conversations. Part of me hoped she would just come to me, that she'd just show up at my door with pizza and beer and we could have a normal friendship. But part of me always knew that she is my therapist and a professional one at that. Meeting at the diner was breaking the rules in her book, but she knew how much my life depended on it. There was also a small part of me that thought she wouldn't meet me here even if she could because she's scared of me. Because she thinks I'm a murdrerer. No, we could never be friends like I hoped. She was my doctor, and she knew about the skeletons in my closet, my deep and dark secrets, and what kept me awake at night. So we couldn't have that kind of friendship. Friends do normal things and talk about normal things. And I, well, I'm not normal.

* * *

If you're reading this, and enjoying it so far, let me know. My imagination needs inspiration to continue.


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